All the Same
by tintinnabulation
Summary: ..COMPLETE.. Susan's grandchildren read the Chronicles of Narnia, inherit Uncle Andrew's magic rings, and have an adventure.
1. Books

Disclaimer: Peter (it's a different Peter) and Martha are mine. Susan isn't, or I should say wasn't, and neither are the magic rings (although I wish they were, they might come in handy).

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This story takes place after "Loose Ends," so it would be a good idea to read that first.

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"To my beloved grandchildren, Peter and Martha." Those were the words on the mysterious box that had been found in Grandma Susan's closet. Whatever was in it, it was clear that she had meant it for them. But why? Peter had never gotten along well with his grandmother. She was, of course, a very nice person. Most grandmothers are. However, she had disapproved, for no clearly defined reason, of the sort of books he read. "Ridiculous fantasy!" she had called them, and had often complained that he was rotting his own mind and Martha's.

Martha was five years younger than Peter, and loved to be read to. She could read very well herself, compared to most seven year olds, but still begged, cajoled, and forced Peter to read for her. He didn't really mind. After all, reading a favorite book to Martha was almost as exciting as reading it for the first time himself.

While Peter was thinking and staring at the box he held on his lap, Martha came bursting into his room shouting.

"Hey, Peter! Mom said you were upstairs, and you had a package for both of us. You didn't open it without me, did you?"

"No," said Peter. "I waited. Let's see what's in it."

Peter cut the tape on the box with his Boy Scout pocket knife and opened it.

"Books!" exclaimed Martha joyfully.

Peter examined the books suspiciously. Any book Grandma Susan sent was sure to be boring. She had given him several others, as yet unread, with titles like "The Right Way to Build a Doghouse" or "How to Get Good Grades."

The book on the top of the pile had a cover picture of a flying horse. That was so unexpected that Peter wondered if he was seeing right. He rubbed his eyes, looked again, and rubbed his eyes again.

"The Magician's Nephew," read Martha. "That looks interesting. Read it to me!"

"What do you say first?"

"Please," responded Martha. "Read it to me, please."

"Well, all right..."

Just then, their mother called to them to come and eat supper, so they left the box lying open on the bed.

After they had eaten, Martha rushed back to Peter's room. Peter helped clear the table, and then went to find her.

She was jumping on his bed. "Stop that, right now!" said Peter. "You'll break the mattress springs."

Martha stopped jumping, but not before giving one last, huge leap. Then she flopped back on the bed, knocking the box of books onto the floor.

Neither of them noticed the small box that had fallen from the large one, and Peter accidently kicked it under the bed.

"Now look what you've done," he said, as he gathered the books up again.

"Oops," said Martha. "Sorry. Will you read to me now?"

Peter sat down and opened the first book.

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Note: This should get more interesting, but they have to find the rings first. Peter and Martha live in America, because it's plausible that Susan moved there, and it's a lot easier for me to write. If you've read my other story, you already know that.


	2. The Rings

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia, and I don't own the magic rings.

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All that month, and all the next, Peter read two chapters of the Chronicles of Narnia every night. Martha listened with rapt attention, and ate, slept, and breathed Narnia for the entire eight weeks. She had all sorts of questions. Was Peter named after the Peter in the book? What was a satyr? Why was King Miraz so nasty? Was that Grandma Susan in the stories? Didn't she hate books like that? Some of them Peter could answer, but not all, and she seemed to grow more and more obsessed the further they read.

Peter finished the last chapter of the last book, and looked over to see Martha crying.

"It's okay, Martha, it's only a story," he said.

"No, it's not," she sobbed. "It's real, and it's such a nice ending, and poor Grandma Susan wasn't there."

"It's a good thing she wasn't," said Peter.

"That's mean!"

"Well, if Grandma Susan had died in that train wreck, Dad would never have been born. And if Dad had never been born, then he couldn't have married Mom, and we'd never have been born. So you'd better be glad Grandma wasn't there, or you wouldn't even exist."

"Oh," said Martha, and she stopped sobbing and started hiccupping. "But she's in Narnia now, isn't she?"

"How would I know? Anyway, it's time to go to bed. Get out of my room."

Martha left, and Peter got into bed and tried to sleep. He couldn't help wondering, though, if the stories were true. Was Grandma Susan in Narnia? Where did these strange books come from? Why did he want to know? It was two hours before he fell asleep.

Peter began to be tired of Martha's constant preoccupation with Narnia. She had reached a new level that Saturday, and was now parading around in a tinfoil crown, insisting that she be called "Princess Martha."

"Why?" he had asked her, that morning.

"If Grandma Susan was a queen of Narnia, then I'm a princess. And please address me with the proper respect."

"If you're a princess, I'm a prince, and I can just call you Martha. Anyway, it was only a story. There's no such place as Narnia."

"There used to be. Someday, I'm going to go someplace just as interesting and have all sorts of adventures. I'll even have stories written about them. And if you don't believe me, you can't come."

"I can't come, then. I'll just go skateboarding, and you can have all the adventures you want without me."

Peter's mother called up the stairway, "Peter, you need to clean your room today. Aunt Andrea is coming over this afternoon, and she's bringing your cousins. Why don't you start now?"

"I was going skateboarding."

"That can wait. Clean your room first. And if I catch you shoving everything under the bed again... I'll come up and inspect it in half an hour."

He grumbled a little, but cleaned his room. It wasn't really that messy. There were a few piles of clothes on the floor, a half-painted model airplane on his desk, and a couple of candy wrappers.

Peter stepped back and admired his work. The room was practically spotless now, if you didn't open any drawers. There was plenty of time left, too.

"Mom, can I go now?" he yelled.

"Yes, if you're finished cleaning," answered his mother, and then added a last word of motherly advice. "And wear a hat."

"All right," said Peter, as he glanced around for his favorite baseball cap. Unfortunately, there was no sign of it.

Peter searched every drawer of his rather congested dresser, but there was still no hat. Then he sighed, and crawled under the bed.

The space underneath Peter's bed contained more dirty laundry, broken toys, and dust than you would have believed possible. Peter shoved aside armfuls of junk, and finally found his hat. He emerged from the space to find that all the things he had pushed away were now in the middle of his floor.

"That's just wonderful," he mumbled, and started to clear the floor all over again. He had almost finished replacing all the familiar junk, when he found something he did not recognize.

It was a little box. It didn't look particularly interesting, but there was a faint humming noise coming from inside.

Peter opened the box to find four rings, two yellow and two green. He knew immediately what they were, and what to do with them. It was a bit of a shock, but also the chance of a lifetime.

"Martha!" he shouted, "Martha, come here quick!"

Martha rushed into his room and slammed the door.

"What is it, Peter?"

"Look!" Peter showed her the rings. "They're real! The stories must be true."

"I told you so."

Peter could not deny that she had told him so.

"Are we going to try them?" asked Martha.

"Yes. Here's a green ring. Put it in your right pocket."

Peter and Martha each put a green ring in their pocket, and were about to pick up a yellow one.

"Wait," said Martha, "You can't use them."

"Why not?"

"You said you'd rather go skateboarding."

"I didn't mean it," Peter protested.

"Then you shouldn't have said it," Martha scolded. "But if you say you're sorry, I'll let you come, anyway."

Peter was sorry, so he apologized, and pretended to ask Martha's permission to use the rings.

"Can I come now?"

"Yes," said Martha, "But you must stay very close to me and not get lost."

Peter kept a straight face and promised that he would. Then they each took a yellow ring from the box.

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They will get somewhere in the next chapter, but will probably meet some characters from "Loose Ends" before going anywhere new. I got kind of attached to the butterfly people.


	3. Angels Aren't Blue

Disclaimer: I don't own Susan, Narnia, the magic rings, or the wood between the worlds. I think everything else is mine. If it isn't, no one's told me.

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The wood between the worlds was just as Peter had read it was, although he hadn't understood the description properly until he had been there. He had been expecting the strange drowsy feeling, so had been able to keep his wits about him. Martha, too, seemed wide awake.

"What pool should we try, Martha?" Peter asked cheerfully.

"That one." She pointed to a nearby pool. "No, wait, what's that?"

There was a small piece of cloth caught under a tree root about twelve feet away. Peter walked over to pick it up, and found that it was a very old handkerchief. Embroidered in one corner were the initials "S. P."

"How did that get here?" he wondered aloud.

"Let's jump into that pool. Maybe we'll find out." She grabbed Peter's hand and dragged him towards the pool.

"Stop and switch rings, or we'll only get our shoes wet," Peter cautioned.

They put their yellow rings in their pockets and took out their green ones. Then they stepped into the pool.

Peter and Martha were in a giant flower garden. At least, it was a little like a flower garden. There didn't seem to be much order to it, as all kinds of flowers were mixed together. Peter looked to the top of a fifty-foot sunflower and started to feel dizzy.

Martha tugged on his arm and pointed at something. "Look, Peter, look!"

"What is it?"

"Is that an angel?" she whispered.

"No, of course not. Angels aren't blue."

A winged human figure was descending gracefully from the top of one of the nearby flowers. It landed next to Martha, and Peter could see that it was a girl a couple of years older than he was.

"Hello!" said the girl. "I'm Crystal." Up close, she looked nothing like an angel. She was, to begin with, quite unmistakably blue. Her hair was as blue as a first place ribbon, her skin was the same shade as a winter sky, and her eyes were the color that blue eyes are in our world. Her wings were not angel's wings, but butterfly's wings.

"My name's Peter, and this is my little sister, Martha."

"I know. I've been waiting for you," said Crystal.

"You knew we were coming? But we didn't know that ourselves," said Peter.

"Then you don't know that we have a job to do?" asked Crystal, puzzled.

"This is the first I've heard of it."

Crystal frowned and turned her head and stared into space for a moment. Then she looked thoughtful, and said, "That's all right. I'll be ready to leave in a moment."

She flew up into a huge daffodil and returned with a covered basket. "This is our lunch," she announced. Well, let's go."

Crystal took hold of Martha's hand, and Peter and Martha put on their yellow rings.

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Note: I have finally thought of a title for this story, but you might not see why for a chapter or two.

animegirl-mika: Yes, there is a chance. It just happened.

fledge: Thank you.


	4. In the Wood Between the Worlds

Disclaimer: The wood between the worlds, the magic rings, Susan, and Narnia were made up by C. S. Lewis. Everything else was made up by me.

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Crystal knew exactly what to do when they reached the wood between the worlds. She took a small stone from her pocket and left it to mark her own pool, then walked directly to another pool.

"This is the pool we need to go into," she said.

"How do you know?" asked Peter.

"Where does it go to?" asked Martha.

"I don't know where it leads," said Crystal, "but I was told to jump into it, because we have something to do there."

"By who? You don't know where we're going or what we'll do there?" said Peter. "I don't think I want to follow you, then."

"You don't have to, I suppose," said Crystal. "But what if the thing we should have done, but didn't, was the last thing between that world and its becoming like Charn, or worse?"

"What does that have to do with us?" asked Peter rebelliously.

"We can't know how it could affect some other world, perhaps even yours. Charn affected Narnia, and you know what became of that."

Peter shuddered. "Yes, I know."

"How do you know about Narnia, Crystal?" asked Martha.

"The same way you do," answered Crystal. "It was my mother that gave the books to your grandmother."

"Really? Then Grandma Susan was in your world?"

"Yes. It was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to my family. We had just been reading The Last Battle, and there was a real, live queen of Narnia in our living room!"

Crystal looked to one side and appeared to be listening. It seemed that she could hear or see something Peter and Martha could not.

"Crystal?" said Martha, "What is it?"

"We should go now," said Crystal. "The people in that world have gotten themselves into a lot of trouble, and the sooner we help them out of it, the better."

She walked to the very edge of the pool, then paused, and began to talk to someone who was not there.

"Yes. I think I understand," said Crystal. "We will try." Then she turned to Peter. "Are you coming? I don't have a ring."

Martha joined Crystal on the bank and held her hand. They were about to go into the water, and Peter had to go with them. He had promised Martha he would 'stick close.'

"Wait for me," he sighed, and hurried to the pool. He and Martha put on their green rings, and they all jumped in.


	5. Dailitcen

Disclaimer: See last chapter for a detailed list of what is not mine.

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Peter, Martha, and Crystal were in an alleyway of what looked like a large city. All around them were tan brick buildings.

Crystal sat down on the pavement and muttered, "I didn't understand quite as well as I thought I did."

She looked so upset that Martha put one arm around her and asked, "What's the matter, Crystal? Are you all right?"

"Yes, mostly. I'm just a little shocked. I'll just sit still for a minute, and then we'll go and see where we are."

Peter and Martha sat down next to her and waited. Finally, Crystal stood up, with a somewhat relieved expression, and said, "It's all right. I might have expected it, going into a different world, but it will make this job harder."

"What will?" asked Peter.

"I can't quite hear properly," said Crystal. "It's so quiet, and a little... almost fuzzy sounding."

"What is? Can you hear us?" asked Peter.

"I can hear if I'm very still. Yes, I can hear you perfectly well."

"There's no one else to hear," Peter began, but Crystal rose into the air and flew to the top of the nearest building. She looked around, waved to them, and flew back down.

"There is a large area with a lot of people that way," she pointed to her right, "And they look more like the people from your world than from mine. Let's go find them."

They left the alley and went into a side street. The fronts of the buildings here were painted with bright colors and weird patterns. After they had walked about two blocks, they saw a man, who stared for a moment before hurrying into one of the brick buildings.

A little while later, they met someone walking in the opposite direction. He froze, looking as if his eyes would swallow up his face, and then ran back the way he had come.

"Didn't we just see that man?" asked Martha. "He looked familiar."

"I don't think so," said Peter. "But he did look like someone in a cartoon."

Crystal led the way to the place she had seen, which seemed to be an open-air meeting place. There was a sort of podium at the far end, and the rest of the space was taken up by stone or concrete benches. The benches were filled with people.

"Look, there's that man we saw," said Martha.

The man behind the podium, who looked so familiar, suddenly yelled, "Look! Turn around!" and all the people did.

Now it was Peter, Martha, and Crystal's turn to stare. Every face that they could see was exactly alike. They had identical silver-gray skin, pink hair, and sad, purple eyes. Each face had the same nose, the same mouth, even the same expression of disbelief. Martha, frightened, edged closer to Peter and clutched his arm.

Peter was as shocked as she was, but determined not to show it. He opened his mouth, sucked in some air, and then found his voice. "Hello?" he stammered. "Could I ask where we are, please?"

No one answered. Peter stood there, with dozens of people staring at him with wide, identical eyes, until he lost his nerve and just stared back.

Crystal had been standing silently, but now lifted off the ground and flew over the crowd's heads to the space in front of the benches. "You seem to be in charge, sir," she said to the man there, "so would you please tell us what this place is called?"

The man stepped back several paces, as if he, too, were afraid, and said, "You are in Dailitcen. Who are you, and what do you want?"

"My name is Crystal. The boy is Peter, and the little girl is Martha. We want to learn what the trouble is that you are in. Perhaps we can help you."

"How did you know that we are in trouble? You can't help us. Go away."

"I can't," said Crystal. "I have something to do here."

"What?" asked the man, as he took a few more steps backward.

"I don't know yet. You have to tell me what the problem is."

The man glanced around nervously, and said, "Come back tomorrow. You can all go home with... him." He waved his arm vaguely and then pointed to a boy in the front row.

The boy looked shocked and a little resentful, but not particularly frightened. He got up from the bench and walked to where Peter was standing. "My name is Xerxes Nebuzaradan Remaliah Elihoreph Pharez. Would you please follow me?" he said, before leaving the meeting-place and heading down a main street.

Peter and Martha waited for Crystal to join them before they followed.

Their host led them to a house, which was painted with patterns and murals in wild colors, like all the others. He opened the door and invited them in.

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Note: You can now see that the title of this story is not warm, fuzzy, and philosophical, but completely literal. Please tell me if it's been done before.

animegirl-mika, fledge, KaterineKasdorf, and princessofnarnia: Thank you all for reviewing.


	6. Xerxes

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from the Narnia books belongs to C. S. Lewis. Anything you don't recognize probably owes a lot to C. S. Lewis, too.

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The house was as strangely decorated inside as it was outside. The front room had a large mural of a herd of purple-colored cow-like creatures, and the furniture was painted with orange and blue zig-zags. It soon made Peter's eyes ache, but Crystal and Martha seemed perfectly comfortable. Peter supposed that flowers and younger children's toys often came in bright, ill-matched colors, and that they were both used to them.

The strange boy told them to wait there, and went through a doorway. He returned with his whole family. There were three little girls, another boy, a man, and a woman. He introduced them all with long, strange-sounding names that were impossible to remember.

"And what should we call you again?" asked Crystal, as a polite way of saying "We forgot your name because it was too long."

"You may call me Xerxes Nebuzaradan Remaliah Elihoreph Pharez," he said.

"That's too long," said Peter. "How about just Xerxes?"

"That is too short and common."

"I've never met anyone named Xerxes," said Peter.

"I've met several," said Xerxes, "and without the other names, no one would know whose mother was calling them. They all look the same, and they all sound the same."

"But you would know if we were speaking to you. We look and sound very different," said Peter.

"All right. You may call me Xerxes, but you must learn a password if you can't learn my name. That way you will know it's really me you are talking to."

"What should the password be?" asked Peter.

"Not here!" Xerxes exclaimed, and then turned to his mother. "I will show our guests to the spare rooms now."

He climbed a yellow and pink polka dotted staircase, and Peter, Martha, and Crystal followed.

Xerxes led them to a small room with plain, violet-colored walls. "You will stay here, Peter." He motioned towards another doorway. "The girls will stay in that room, but for now let's all talk in yours."

Peter was surprised, but very glad, that he was not expected to sleep in a room with outlandish patterns on the walls. He asked why the guest rooms were not painted 'so creatively,' and Xerxes said, "All the guest rooms in Dailitcen are plain violet. It helps people to feel more at home if a room looks like the guest room in their house. It is one of the few things we want to be exactly alike."

"Why is everything alike, anyway?" asked Peter. "It was quite a shock to us to see that you all have the same face. It's not like that in our world."

"Or mine," said Crystal.

"It wasn't always like that here," said Xerxes, "and that is the problem you seem to know we have. I will tell you the story, but first we must agree on a password."

"Sainollan," said Crystal suddenly. "That is the password."

Xerxes looked at her strangely. "You know more than I thought you did," he said, "but that is a good password."

"Will you tell us your story, now?" asked Peter, impatient.

"Yes," said Xerxes, and he did.


	7. What's the Story?

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from The Chronicles of Narnia belongs to whoever it belongs to since C. S. Lewis is dead. Anything that just sounds vaguely familiar, your guess is as good as mine.

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"Long, long ago," began Xerxes, "hundreds of years back, everyone had a different face. Some people were tall, some were short, and some were even heavier or lighter than others..."

Peter interrupted. "In other words, you were normal."

"You have a different definition of 'normal,'" said Xerxes. "It may be the right one. No one here was alive then to remember what it was like, so we describe it according to legend."

"You can skip that part, and just tell us what happened to change it." said Peter.

"All right," said Xerxes, "but it takes all the fun out of the story." Then he continued.

"The people had a meeting. They decided that things were not fair, because some people could do some things better than others, and some people were nicer looking than others. They all wanted to have everything and be good at everything. They talked and talked together, trying to decide how to make everything fair. Finally, they came to the easiest solution, and wondered why they had not thought of it before."

"What was it?" asked Martha. She obviously thought of this as only one more story, and was very interested.

"They would just ask. They sent messengers to tell Sainollan that they didn't like the way things were, and that they wanted them fair."

"Who was Sainollan?" asked Martha.

"Is, you mean," said Xerxes. "It's hard to explain if you really don't know." He kept telling the story.

"Eight men went to Mount Niol to complain to Sainollan. None were ever seen again, but the people knew they had made it. One morning they woke up, and they were all the same. Everyone had the same face, and was the same height, except the children, of course, and they soon found that they all had the same talents. Everyone could paint pictures as well as the best artists could before, and they could all sing as well as the best musicians."

"Were they happy?" asked Martha.

"They were happy for a while," said Xerxes. "They had perfect fairness, just as they had asked. But if everyone makes a beautiful work of art whenever they pick up a brush, no one thinks much of it. And if everyone has the same voice, no one cares how good it sounds. It was not long before they were tired of it.

"The people wished they had not been so eager for things to be fair, and they began to try to be different from each other. They painted their houses in bright colors and patterns, but since they were all equally good artists, it only made them seem more alike. They tried all sorts of things, but they had wanted fairness, and they had gotten it. No sooner had one person thought of something different to do than every other person copied it.

"Eventually, they gave up. They stopped trying to be different and began to pretend they were happy. Years went by, and then generations, and most people are still pretending."

"Why don't they just go and ask this Sainollan to put things back the way they were?" asked Peter.

"We have thought of it. For one thing, everyone is too frightened. Remember, no one came back after complaining to him the first time. The main problem, though, is that we are too proud. No one is willing to admit that their ancestors made a terrible mistake, or that they themselves are not able to fix any problem they have. They would rather tell themselves that there is no problem, and that they really want to be alike."

"Don't they?" asked Martha.

"No. If everyone is alike, they can't tell their friends and family from complete strangers. They can't ever know if they are talking to their best friend or their worst enemy, if they are the same age. That is why I made you learn a password. Not everyone will be glad you are here, and we can't be too careful."

"Are you glad we are here?" asked Martha innocently.

"Yes," said Xerxes. "It seems to mean that there is some hope left. Perhaps you will start things moving, and we will finally be able to undo the curse we have brought upon ourselves. I am not the only one who wishes things were different. There is a special meeting tomorrow, and we will see what we can do then, but now it is time to eat supper."

Peter, Martha, and Crystal followed him back downstairs.

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Note: This chapter took a long time, didn't it? Dailitcen turned out to be worse off than I had expected, and it wasn't quite as fun to write.

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Here is a puzzle. The word "Sainollan" was made from two words shoved together and mixed up. One is in English. The other means the same thing in a different language, but it should be familiar to anyone reading this. If you can figure it out, it will give you the answer to the question a couple of people have asked, "Who is Crystal talking to?" If you already know the answer to that, you should be able to find the two words I used. In case it turns out to be impossible to unscramble, I will put a couple of clues below.

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Clue 1: Both 'a's are in the same word.

Clue 2: Mount "Niol" will help you find the English word.

Clue 3: The other word is (I have heard) Turkish, but you know it as someone's name.


	8. The Special Meeting

Disclaimer: Actually, most of the things in this story are mine. Obviously, if it belongs to C. S. Lewis, it's his, but I have already listed those things. See chapter four if you can't tell what's his from what's mine...

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The puzzle at the end of the last chapter should be easy if you use all the clues. I had tried to make it pretty obvious in the story, but if someone asks the same question twice, you know you haven't answered it yet... Good job if you guessed right.

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Xerxes' family and their three guests sat down at a table in the kitchen. Crystal sat with her head bowed for a moment, as if waiting for them to say grace, but they started eating immediately. Peter was surprised that their hosts were so silent. They ate quickly, looking down at their plates and leaving abruptly when finished. The little girls took the longest time to eat, playing with their food and occasionally sneaking a glance at Martha, who was about the same age as they were.

When each person was done eating, that person cleared his or her own place and disappeared upstairs, without even saying goodnight or "May I be excused?" Peter thought that they were being rude, and said something about it when he, Martha, and Crystal were the only ones left.

"They have strange customs here," said Crystal, "but I am sure it is not considered rude."

Peter and Crystal waited for Martha to finish, and then they all got up and headed towards the stairway. Xerxes was waiting for them in the front room.

"I will see you in the morning," he told them, "and we will see what is decided at the meeting. I hope you sleep well."

Xerxes went up the stairs and through a doorway, leaving them to go to the violet-colored guest rooms and try to sleep. Peter was not used to going to bed so soon after supper, and he lay awake for several hours, wondering how he had chosen such an unpleasant world to jump into.

Peter woke up long after everyone else. He went downstairs to find them all ready to go out. Xerxes' mother had oiled her hair and twisted it into some strange shape, and so had her daughters. Peter saw them playing a board game in the kitchen. Martha was there, too, with her hair heavily greased and put up into the strangest shape of all. She seemed to have gotten over her fear of the inhabitants of Dailitcen, and Peter did not know why he felt so upset about it. She just looked so odd in that hairstyle and the brightly patterned dress she had borrowed; almost as if she belonged in this place, and he did not like that at all.

"We are waiting for you," said Xerxes. "It is time to go to the meeting now."

Xerxes' family filed out the door in order of age, with Martha following, still telling one of the other girls about the board games she played at home. Crystal ducked into the now empty kitchen and retrieved her lunch basket before she went outside. Peter followed her, and they all walked back to the meeting place they had seen the day before.

Every bench was already full, so they joined the already considerable crowd standing at the back. The man behind the podium began to speak.

"Everyone has already heard about the unusual circumstances requiring this special meeting," said the man, "so we will begin with deciding what to do about them. Anyone with a suggestion may now have the floor."

Someone in the front row stood up and said, "Let's get rid of those trouble-making strangers. They're not natural. We ought to send them back where they came from."

"Why?" yelled someone a few benches behind them. "Are you jealous? They are certainly a lot more interesting than you are."

"Why is that?" said the first person angrily, "Do you want to go with them? They are disturbing the peace."

"I just might," said the second, "Where did they come from, anyway?"

"Some other world, I suppose, but if you're tired of this one..." The first person made a threatening gesture. It looked like things were getting out of hand, but the chairman didn't seem to be doing anything about it.

Crystal, who had been sitting on the ground with her fingers in her ears, interrupted. She flew to the front again, and addressed the crowd.

"We are here to help you solve your problem," she said, "and we know all about it. There is only one way for you to stop being all alike. You must undo the curse the same way it was done."

"Since you know so much," said a woman near the back, "how is that?"

"You must go to Sainollan and ask pardon for the foolishness that caused it."

"What foolishness?" someone screamed. "And what business is it of yours?"

"She was sent by Sainollan," said Xerxes. "I think we have been the same for long enough. Why don't we go and ask? It can't make us any worse off than we already are."

"Why don't we?" someone echoed, and soon it was being whispered all around.

"We will take a vote," said the chairman, taking charge again. "All in favor of sending messengers to Mount Niol, please raise your hand."

Every person present raised their hand.

"Are there any volunteers?" asked the chairman.

Every hand went down. The people stared at one another in complete silence.

"I'm about ready to go myself," said Xerxes quietly, "and if no one volunteers, I will."

"Would your parents let you?" asked Peter.

"Why would they care?" asked Xerxes.

"What if you never came back?"

"They have four other children," said Xerxes.

Peter didn't think that would make much difference, but Xerxes was obviously convinced that he would not be missed.

"I'll go," said Xerxes, slowly making his way to the front.

"What is your name?" asked the chairman, getting out a pen and piece of paper.

Xerxes gave his entire long name, and the man wrote it down. "Who else will go?" he asked. No one answered.

"We can't send just one person," said the chairman. "Will anyone go most of the way there? You don't have to climb the mountain."

A few boys Xerxes' age raised their hands timidly. The man wrote their names down, also. "That's better," he said.

"I'm coming," said Crystal. "Are you, Peter?"

Peter thought about it. He had always wanted to have this kind of adventure. It was very exciting in books, but it was very different when it was actually happening to you. Now he just wanted to go home, but, if he and Martha left now, how would Crystal get back to her world? After all, she didn't have any magic rings. He didn't want to stick around here and wait, either. What if they didn't return? He couldn't wait forever. What if they did return, and he had given up and left? He decided that the safest thing to do would be to go with them.

"Yes, I'm coming," said Peter.

"Martha can stay with us," offered Xerxes' mother, or at least he thought she was Xerxes' mother.

"No, thank you," said Peter. "I promised her I'd stay close, so she'll have to come, too."

Crystal, Peter, and Martha's names were added to the list, and plans were made to leave immediately.

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I have been asked if this story is going to be finished, since I have started another one. The answer is yes. It may be slower, as I am having some real life problems, but "All the Same" is higher priority than "Struck by Lightning." This one is planned out, while the other is mostly just "Let's throw some people from different books together on neutral territory and see how they react," that I started because this was getting kind of depressing.


	9. Setting Out

...Disclaimer: You know, if anyone actually did want to sue, they probably wouldn't sue ME. If they did, they would want to sue everybody else here, too, and that just isn't practical. Everyone knows that a small number of the things in this story belong to C. S. Lewis.

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Peter soon found that when the people of Dailitcen said 'immediately,' they meant immediately. They were not setting out immediately as in 'first thing tomorrow morning,' but immediately as in 'five minutes from now.' Xerxes and his schoolmates (for so the other boys turned out to be) borrowed some supplies from whoever lived closest, and were leaving the city before Peter knew what was happening.

"Where is Mount Niol, exactly?" asked Peter after they had been walking for a while.

"No one knows," said Xerxes, who seemed to be leading. "It's been so long since anyone has been there. Some are even beginning to say that it never existed."

"Then how do you know which way to go?"

"Legend says that it lies somewhere to the northeast," said Xerxes.

"Then we're going someplace we don't know how to find, that might not even be there?" said Peter doubtfully.

"It's there," said Xerxes, and would not speak to him again until they stopped to eat lunch.

Crystal offered everyone blackberry and honeysuckle sandwiches from her basket, but no one would try them except Peter and Xerxes. The other boys politely refused, and Martha would eat nothing but applesauce. The sandwiches were hard to describe, but they were a bit too flowery for Peter's taste. Xerxes seemed to enjoy them, however, perhaps because they were so 'different.'

Peter made himself a sandwich of something like peanut butter from one of the backpacks of supplies, and then sat down by Xerxes to eat it. "How far do you expect we'll have to go?" he asked.

"I have no idea," said Xerxes. "It may be three miles or three thousand miles. It may take two days or two years. But we'll know Mount Niol when we see it."

"If it takes two years, we'll run out of supplies," said Peter. He did not think that Xerxes was quite responsible enough to be leading an expedition of any sort. He was barely older than Peter, and here he was running blindly off with hardly any notice, no map, and no clue. There was a decent, well-paved road, but there was no telling how long they would follow it. A legendary mountain would surely not have a highway leading straight to it, and Peter was sure they would get hopelessly lost.

However, he had chosen to go on this trip, disorganized as it may be. Peter finished his sandwich and helped the others put things away, and then it was time to continue their journey.

They walked along the road for several hours, until they came to a town. It was smaller than the city they had come from, but looked much the same otherwise. There were the same kind of brightly painted brick houses and a similar open-air meeting place. A sign said in large block letters, "WELCOME TO," after which the painters had apparently lost interest, as there was no name. Underneath someone had scribbled the word 'nowhere,' in ink, which someone else had crossed out with chalk and written 'everywhere.' Peter couldn't see the point to the graffiti, or the sign itself.

People came running out of their houses to stare at them. If it had just been Xerxes and the other Dailitcenian boys, no one would have noticed them, but Peter, Martha, and especially Crystal attracted more attention than porcelain dolls at a yard sale.

By the time they reached the meeting place, there was a small crowd following them. Xerxes explained their errand, and two families volunteered to let them sleep in their houses.

Peter found himself sharing another violet-colored guest room with a boy that looked like Xerxes. He wondered if he was Xerxes.

"Give the password," said Peter.

"What password?" asked the boy.

Peter thought he could see why the people here were so distant. This boy was just like any other boy in the group, so what would be the use of asking him about himself? And if Peter told him anything personal, he would know that someone knew, but not who knew. It must be next to impossible to make friends.

"Never mind," said Peter, as he climbed into one of the beds.

The boy followed his example. He was asleep in five minutes, but Peter lay awake for a while thinking about the errand they were on. He finally decided that it was necessary, but they should have brought a compass.

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...Note: This story is finally moving again. I do have an excuse for not updating in so long. My internet connection quit. It's surprising how unmotivated you can be when you can't read reviews.

...When I said "this was getting kind of depressing," I didn't exactly mean the story itself, but the thoughts around it. Actually, there was something planned in the story that would have been depressing, but I changed it.


	10. Caught in the Rain

...Disclaimer: You've heard it, so I won't bother.

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Fairly early the next morning, Peter and his roommate met the rest of the group in the center of the town. They counted heads to be sure they had everyone, and then struck out to the north again. The weather started out bright and a little windy, but had clouded over by early afternoon.

"It looks like it's going to rain," said Peter.

"I hope it doesn't," said Xerxes, "We're not equipped for it."

They kept walking. The clouds glowered over their heads, but did not carry out the threat of rain.

They reached another small town just before dark, and were surprised to find the road blocked. Several men were guarding it, holding some sort of tool Peter had never seen before, but did not want to see any closer. They were something like a sword with two blades, or a giant pair of scissors.

"You can not enter this town," said one man. "We have heard all about your expedition, and want nothing to do with it. Go stay somewhere else." The man brandished his weapon threateningly and stepped towards them.

The most prudent thing to do was retreat. They walked back down the road a short distance, and then sat down to discuss what they ought to do.

"Can we go somewhere else?" asked Peter.

"There is nowhere else nearby," said Xerxes. "The towns in this area are required to be no farther than one day's journey apart, but there are none much closer, either."

"We'll have to either camp out here or keep going," said one of the boys.

"Is anyone tired yet?" asked Xerxes.

They decided to walk a little farther before trying to camp. Xerxes led them in a wide circle around the unfriendly town, and then back to the road.

It began to rain.

"Well, we can't camp now," said Xerxes.

By early morning, Peter was very tired, very wet, and very cranky, and it was still raining sporadically. He recalled all the stories he had read where the hero was caught in a rain storm. There was usually a convenient empty shed or abandoned mansion to step into, where either something happened to help solve a mystery, or he found some old, magical object that started him on an adventure. Well, Peter was already on an adventure, and there was no sign of any building at all. And, of course, the hero in a story book never had to deal with a soaking wet, sleep-deprived seven-year-old.

Martha had never stayed awake all night before, and was acting unnaturally hyperactive. She was alternating skipping ahead and splashing in puddles with coming back and literally running circles around Peter, asking him how much farther it was to Mount Niol and shaking more water on him whenever the rain stopped for a while. Finally Peter lost his patience.

"Go bother Xerxes for a change," he said irritably. Unfortunately, she did.

Martha skipped up to Xerxes and demanded the password. Then she started to ask him where they were, when they would get there, if they were going to stop and have breakfast soon, and other questions of the type young children always ask on road trips.

Peter suddenly realized that Martha was giving Xerxes a detailed account of the time, a few years ago, that they had both taken ballet lessons. Peter would never have set foot inside the dance studio if his mother had not made him. Martha had refused to go alone, so he had been forced to join the beginning class with her. It was none of Xerxes' business, but Martha didn't seem to know that. She began to give an example of their first recital, dancing in a circle and waving her arms in a ridiculous bird impression. Peter saw that it was about time to interfere.

He hurried to grab Martha's hand, apologizing to Xerxes and explaining that he had quit ballet lessons as soon as possible, and preferred that it not be mentioned.

"Why?" asked Xerxes, "It seems interesting."

Xerxes had clearly never heard of ballet, and Peter decided that it was not worth being embarrassed about after all.

They trudged along for a while longer, and the sun began to grow brighter. The rain stopped, the clouds cleared away, and they could see another town ahead of them.

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...Note: This is already longer than "Loose Ends!" I just felt like announcing that.


	11. Lydia

...Disclaimer: You've heard it.

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The streets of the town were completely deserted. Not a single person was outside. Every door was shut, and every window curtained, although Peter thought he saw a face in one for a moment.

They stood in the middle of the road and wondered for a while, but nothing changed. Finally, Xerxes walked up to one of the houses and knocked on the door. There was no answer.

"Surely someone will answer," he said, and went up and down the street knocking on doors. The first ten or so houses remained quiet, and for all appearances empty.

The next door opened an inch and a half. It was the house where Peter had seen the face. Someone inside whispered frantically, and Xerxes motioned for the others to join him.

The door opened suddenly, and they all hurried through it.

The woman who had let them in looked different. She had, of course, the same pink hair as everyone else, but it was left down around her shoulders and not oiled. Her eyes were the same purple color, but they were missing the sadness that seemed to be in all the others. She wore a simple enough dress in one shade of violet.

She shut the door quickly, turned the lock, and drew two bolts. Then she turned around and introduced herself. Her name was Lydia.

"Is that the only name you have?" asked one of the boys.

"No," said Lydia, "but my full name is too long to use. Anyway, if anyone asks you later, you won't be able to tell them exactly who you were staying with. There are four Lydias on this street alone. "

"Why would anyone care?"asked someone else.

"This whole town is under orders not to show themselves or speak to any strangers until further notice, or until the regularly scheduled meeting next week."

"Whose orders?" asked Peter.

"The city's orders. They took a vote. It was almost unanimous."

Peter thought he knew who had voted against it.

When she had heard everyone's name and what had happened at the last town, Lydia went into a closet and brought out a basket of clothing. She distributed it among her guests and showed them where her upstairs bathroom was.

"Everyone line up to take a bath," she said. "Crystal and Martha, you may use the bathroom downstairs. Call me if you need anything."

Peter felt much better after he had washed and put on dry clothes. Lydia gave everyone some hot cocoa and found places for them to sleep, saying that it would be safer for all concerned if they left after dark.

A short while later, Peter found himself lying on a green and pink plaid sofa. The curtains were still drawn, so the sunlight didn't bother him too much, but he still had a hard time falling asleep.

The boy across the room started to snore.

Peter got up and walked into the kitchen. Lydia was there, packing food into a very large basket. She looked up when she heard him, and asked if he wanted another cup of cocoa.

"No, thank you," said Peter. "What are you doing?"

"I am getting ready to come with you," said Lydia unexpectedly.

"Why?" asked Peter.

"From what I've heard, none of you know how to get to Mount Niol," she explained. "Well, I do. I've been there."


	12. The Forest

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, actually. Narnia, Susan, the Wood between the Worlds, and the Magic rings, none of which are mentioned in this chapter anyway, belong to C. S. Lewis. Dailitcen, Mount Niol, Xerxes, Lydia, Crystal, Peter, Martha, and everything else that does not belong to C. S. Lewis probably belong to my online pseudonym, which is something like a multiple personality.

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Note: I would like to thank The Goddess of Purple Coats for pointing out that chapter 12 was "substandard" and if I haven't managed to fix it yet I would appreciate any suggestions. This will be the second posting of chapter 12.

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Peter stared at Lydia for almost two minutes before he said anything. The best he could manage was, "What?"

"I've been there," repeated Lydia. "I can help you find Mount Niol."

"Why? How?"

"There is no time now. There may be while we walk," said Lydia, as she poured him the cocoa he had said he didn't want. "You must get some rest. I will wake everyone when it is dark."

She ushered him into the living room and went back to her packing, leaving Peter to wonder and try to sleep. It was easier than he expected.

The next thing Peter knew, someone was tapping him on the shoulder and telling him to get up.

It was not quite dark yet, but the sun was setting. Lydia showed Peter and the others some tents and a couple of big baskets that they needed to bring with them. She explained that, farther north, there were fewer towns, and they would have to carry more supplies.

They waited until it was dark enough not to be seen easily, and turned out the lights before they opened the door. Lydia led them straight through town on the main street and out into the country beyond.

A few hours' walk from the town was a forest. Peter did not like the little he could see of it in the dark. The trees were so close together that the road turned west to go around, and they decided to wait until morning to go into them.

The sun came up, and the forest looked even more unpleasant. It seemed to be a solid wall of tree trunks, but there was a hidden path just wide enough to walk single-file.

They stopped for lunch, and then supper, sitting right down on the path to eat. They had not seen a single clearing all day, and it was evening before they found one. There was a sudden gap in the trees on the left that they almost missed in the dark.

They squeezed through the narrow opening into a much wider space that had obviously been used as a camp site. A large tank of water stood on one side, and two outhouses on the other. There was plenty of room for their tents, and they set them up quickly and went to sleep.

The next day, and the next, and the next, were almost exactly the same. They walked down the path until it was dark and then camped in a clearing identical to the first one. Sometimes it was on the right, and sometimes on the left, but it soon became more familiar than a violet-colored guest room. It got depressing after a while.

Peter was tired of this, and he said so. There was nothing to look at all day but unnaturally close trees and the back of Martha's head.

"We are almost to the village," said Lydia. "We will leave the forest in less than two days."

"What sort of place is this, anyway?" Peter asked sourly.

"This forest was planted by the people that live to the north, to keep others away."

"Why do they want to keep people away?"

"The last time anyone traveled to this village from the south, everyone woke up the next morning with the same face."

Peter thought they were being a little paranoid, but he certainly couldn't blame them.

"Why is there a path here, then?" he asked.

"They want to keep others out, not themselves in," answered Lydia. "The path is well hidden, and a secret only they know about."

"You know about it," Peter pointed out, "and now we do, too."

"I was born in the village we are going to," said Lydia, "but I live in the south because we were waiting for you, and knew you would need a guide through the forest."

"What do you mean, you were waiting for us?"

"I should start the tale at the beginning," she said.

"Go ahead," said Peter.

Everyone stopped talking to listen as Lydia told the story.

"Long, long ago," she began, "there was a village near Mount Niol. The people to the south might have called it primitive. It had no tall buildings or indoor plumbing, but the people there were perfectly happy without those things.

"One day, a group of strangers came from a place that was not so very far away, but was very different. They said they were going to Mount Niol to tell Sainollan to make things fair. The village people thought they were foolish, and tried to stop them.

"Five of the eight men were finally convinced that they were wrong, and decided not to climb the mountain. They stayed in the village. One of the other three became frightened and ran away, back where he came from, supposedly. Two went up onto Mount Niol and they never came down again. No one knew what happened to them, but the next morning everyone looked exactly alike, and they knew it was because of those strangers.

"The people were very upset, but did not know what to do about it. They finally decided to block off their land completely, in case the people to the south had any more complaints for Sainollan. They planted the forest and tended it for generations, until it was impossible for anyone who did not know the path to get through it. They kept the path open, and used it to go back and forth themselves.

"Someone would always be living south of the forest, because Sainollan had told them that someday someone would come to undo the curse. We would need to show them the way to Mount Niol. That is why I was waiting, and why I brought you on our path."

Lydia stopped talking, and they walked on in a gloomy, thoughtful silence.

Everyone was quite sick of the forest long before they reached the end of it, and they were glad to get out of the stuffy, narrow path into the open.

They were in a grassy field. To the south, west, and farther away to the north, they were surrounded by the impenetrable wall of trees. To the east, though, there was a small town, and between them and the town were several fences and a few wooden houses.

Crystal took a short flight to stretch her cramped wings before politely coming down to walk with the others. They did not walk far, however, before they were attacked.

A huge, purple bull with a single horn in the middle of its forehead charged at them so fast they did not see where it came from. It knocked down two of the boys and chased Crystal into the air again while Lydia was rummaging around in one of the baskets. She pulled out a rope, tied one end to a fence post, and lassoed the bull before it managed to hurt anyone.

"We should tell Hezekiah that we found his unicorn," she said, as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

"That thing is a unicorn?" asked Peter incredulously.

Xerxes stared at the creature and answered in a hushed voice. "Yes, that's a unicorn. I thought they were mythical."

"So did I," said Peter, "but I didn't think they looked like that."

"What else would a unicorn look like?" asked Lydia, as she knocked on the door of a nearby farmhouse.

A man answered the door. When Lydia told him about the unicorn, he thanked her and went to get it. Peter noticed a second unicorn in the next field. This one was wearing a bright orange cowbell and grazing peacefully. It looked up at them and gave a loud, contented moo.

Martha laughed and began to sing, changing the words a little. "Now I've seen a purple cow, I hope you never see one, but I can tell you anyhow, you'd rather see than be one."

She sang this song over and over until they reached the town, and it started to get on Peter's nerves.

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Note: I don't own the purple cow song either.


	13. Mount Niol

Disclaimer: Here goes:

AnythingthatbelongstoC.S.LewisdoesnotbelongtomeandI'mnotmakinganymoneyfromthissopleasedon'tsueme. Now that's over with.

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Lydia's village consisted of small, wooden houses, most of which were painted gray, white, or violet. There was no meeting place. A boy slightly older than Martha was playing with a ball in front of one of the houses.

"Lydia!" exclaimed the boy. "We didn't expect you home for another week."

Then he saw the group of people following her. He stared for a moment, with his mouth open, then hurried into the house. "I'll tell Mother you're here!"

Lydia's mother invited them inside. Her house was spotlessly clean and full of polished wood furniture. "Will you stay here tonight, and go to the mountain tomorrow morning?" she asked.

"No," said Xerxes. "If we are that close, we should hurry on."

They stopped there only long enough for supper and some hot cocoa. Then they followed Lydia out of the town toward the wall of trees to the east.

There was another hidden path, and Peter noticed with relief that it was only a few feet long. They came out from under the trees into a wide space between the forest and the mountain.

Mount Niol did not look quite big enough to be called a mountain, but it felt it. Peter saw nothing more than a large hill, but he sensed a mountain so huge that it could not be imagined. Xerxes had been right. They knew it when they saw it. Peter would not have climbed that mountain uninvited to save his life, and he knew, somehow, that he was not invited.

Xerxes looked nearly as apprehensive as Peter felt, but he also looked excited. "If I don't go now, I never will," he muttered, and almost ran to the foot of the hill. No one followed.

Peter and the others watched Xerxes begin to climb. There was a steep slope halfway up that he could not scale, so he scrambled around to the other side and was lost to view.

There was nothing left to do but wait. Peter finally tore his eyes from the mountain and saw that there were several rows of benches nearby. It looked like the meeting places they had seen in nearly every town, but there was no podium.

Crystal sat down on a bench and stared at Mount Niol. Peter noticed that she did not seem frightened of it at all. Martha was not, either. She strayed a little too close, and Lydia brought her back and set her next to Crystal.

"Do not touch the mountain," said Lydia.

"Why not?" asked Martha.

"People who do not belong there have been known to drop dead."

That was not encouraging. Peter started to wonder if they should be even as close as they were. Maybe they should go back to the village. He said nothing, though, and sat down by Martha.

It began to get dark. The other boys set up the tents and went to bed. Lydia lay down on a bench and slept. Peter knew he would be unable to sleep, so he didn't try. He sat and waited, while it got darker and darker, and Crystal watched the mountain, and Martha pulled up grass blades and braided them.

Peter fell asleep after all. He woke, still sitting upright on the bench, but he could not get up; Martha was fast asleep with her head on his shoulder. Crystal was wide awake, still watching. Peter looked around and saw the trees, the tents, and the mountain, and Lydia, still sleeping on the bench, lit faintly gray by dawn.

Martha woke up. "Is Xerxes back yet?" she asked. There was no sign of him.

There was more light now. Peter glanced over at Lydia, and was startled to see that she had changed. It had been too dark to notice, but her face was rounder and her hair was purple. Martha saw her, too, and cried out, "Look!" It woke Lydia, who jumped up immediately. She was shorter than she had been, but she was obviously Lydia. Her facial expression was the same, and her new face fit it better.

"What is it?" she asked, then fell silent with astonishment at the sound of her own voice. She recovered quickly. "I am different!" she exclaimed. "Xerxes got there."

"But will he get back?" asked Peter. Lydia did not answer. She called into each tent for the occupants to come out and see each other.

The boys spilled out of the tents. They no longer looked alike. Some had green or orange eyes and blue or red or purple hair, and two or three had gold-brown or pinkish copper colored skin. They let out a great cheer and asked for Xerxes, but he had still not returned. They began to introduce themselves to each other, putting old names with new faces.

Peter gave up on getting Lydia to answer him and asked Crystal. "Do you think Xerxes will come back?"

"I don't know," said Crystal, still watching Mount Niol. "Wait."

Peter sat down again and waited. The sun was just beginning to be visible above the hill when he could see a figure come into view at the top of it. "There he is!" Peter shouted.

Everyone looked up. Peter opened his mouth in horror and then wonder as the figure leaped from the hilltop and unfolded a glittering pair of silver wings.

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fledge: I didn't know what you were talking about until I went out and read The Last Unicorn. When I say 'a huge bull,' I don't mean quite that huge.


	14. Going Home

Disclaimer: Sometimes I wonder if I really have to bother with these. See previous disclaimers.

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The figure fell for a short distance and then floated to the ground. It must be Xerxes, Peter thought, as there had been no one else on Mount Niol. There was something strange about him, though. The face was the same as it had been the night before; it was the same as everyone's face had been the night before. Xerxes, if it was Xerxes, did not appear to have changed at all, except for one thing. The other boys gaped at the wings. They were huge, silver, butterfly-like wings, and they shone almost dazzlingly as the sun rose higher.

Crystal broke the stunned silence. "Give the password."

"Sainollan!" said Xerxes, so loudly that Peter's ears rang. "There is no need for a password now," he added, in a normal voice.

"No, there isn't," Peter agreed. "But what took you so long?"

"I had my own business with Sainollan," said Xerxes.

"What sort of business? Why isn't your face changed, too?" asked the other boys.

"I will not tell you now," said Xerxes, looking at the ground and blushing dark gray.

"Why do you have wings, then?" asked Martha.

"Because my business went well," said Xerxes, raising his head. "We should go back now."

Everyone helped take down the tents, and then they filed through the short passageway to Lydia's village. Almost everyone seemed to be outside, and Lydia spotted her family at once. "Can you find the way back through the forest without me?" she asked Xerxes. "You must be sure to mark your direction somehow before entering one of the clearings. There is no pattern to which side of the path they are on, and strangers can get turned around and become lost."

Peter had not thought about it before, but he could see now how it was possible to get lost on a straight path. Every clearing was the same, except for the side of the path it was on. The sun was nearly invisible, and if a traveler forgot which way a clearing faced, he could wake up in the morning and start off in the wrong direction. He could end up where he started, or, if he kept making mistakes, wander up and down the path until he ran out of provisions. It was not a pleasant thought. "I do wish we had a compass," Peter murmured.

"We will find the way," said Xerxes confidently, and he led the group out of the village toward the forest.

The trip back was slightly easier than Peter expected, but he was even more relieved to get out of the forest than he had been the first time. Each town was full of cheering people when they reached it, although at least half of the residents of the two previously unfriendly towns seemed to be hiding indoors. At last they came to the city they had started from.

The last city was silent, and the streets were deserted. Xerxes tried the door of his house, and it was unlocked, but there was no one home. "Where is everyone?" asked one of the boys nervously, when they had searched several houses and not found any sign of life.

"Let's go to the meeting place," suggested Crystal. "Maybe there is someone there."

They followed her advice. When they arrived at the meeting place, they saw that every person in town was there, sitting on the benches or the ground in complete silence. One small girl happened to turn her head. When she saw the travelers, she yelled joyfully, "Look, everybody! They're back!"

All of the townspeople jumped up and rushed to greet them. No one could hear a word anyone else was saying, because they were all talking at once, but the boys recognized their families as the only people that looked like they did. Most of them left when they found each other. The people who had no relatives in the group followed friends or acquaintances, even strangers, that did. The crowd trickled away until there was almost no one there.

Peter, Martha, Crystal, and Xerxes stood alone at the back of the meeting place. There had been no family that looked like Xerxes. Each face had been changed, except for his. There was, however, a small group of people walking toward him from the rows of benches. The woman spoke hesitantly. "Xerxes?" she asked, "Xerxes Nebuzaradan Remaliah Elihoreph Pharez? Is that you?"

Xerxes stepped aside to talk with his parents for a few minutes, and then returned to explain. "I want to go to Crystal's world," he said. "Will you take me with you?"

"Was that your own business?" asked Martha. "Why don't you want to stay, now that everything is changed?"

"Some things are different," Xerxes told her, "but others will not really be changed for generations. Outside, people are different. Inside, they are only beginning to be. They are a world of strangers, even to themselves and to their own kin. I know and care about you and Peter and Crystal more than my family. I will not miss anyone here, but I would miss all of you if I stayed here."

"Why are you going to Crystal's world, then, and not ours?"

"I asked Sainollan what I ought to do with my life, and that was the choice I was given. I could have either a new face or a pair of wings. One would allow me to live here, and one would let me go there. There is more than one reason I chose to leave, but I will not share them." He was looking at Crystal with an expression that Peter did not quite understand, but would have called silly if he had seen it on anyone else.

"You wouldn't like our world, anyway," said Peter, trying to break the tension. "People there often know but still don't care about each other, and they wouldn't take very kindly to you. That's their loss, of course."

"My people would be glad to have you with us, Xerxes," said Crystal. "So would I. We should go now, though. Take Peter's hand."

Xerxes, Crystal, Martha, and Peter joined hands. Xerxes said goodbye to his family. They looked thoughtful and serious, but not particularly sad. They did not really know Xerxes, and were losing their chance to ever know him, but they would not miss him. Peter and Martha touched the yellow rings they had kept carefully in their pockets, and that world faded.

o

In the Wood Between the Worlds, Peter took off his yellow ring, brought his green ring out of his pocket, and handed them both to Xerxes.

"Somehow, I think you'll have more use for this than I will," he said. "Martha and I only need one set of rings to travel together. You and Crystal can take these. There's Crystal's pool. See that rock? Put on the green ring, hold hands, and jump into the water."

"I will never forget you," said Xerxes.

"I won't forget you, either. Maybe we'll visit each other sometime. Goodbye."

Peter and Martha hesitated at the edge of one pool to watch Crystal and Xerxes disappear into another. Peter sighed, took his little sister's hand, and jumped.

o

"Peter?" called his mother. "Are you still there?"

"Yes."

"Good. Aunt Andrea just called on her cell phone. She's three miles away and needs directions. Wait until your cousins come, and take them skateboarding with you."

"All right," he yelled, and then whispered, "Don't tell anyone about this just yet, alright, Martha? They won't believe you, anyway." He put the remaining rings back into their tiny box and hid them in the bottom of his sock drawer.

The doorbell rang, and Peter could hear footsteps running up the stairs.

o

The End

o

o

o

Yes, I stopped work on this for a very long time, and then I didn't even add another chapter, just slightly lengthened and edited this one. I can't say how guilty I felt for leaving this story alone for so long. It is finished now, though.


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